


Drink With Me

by FandomNonsense



Series: Laughter Lines [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Internal Conflict, Letters, Minor Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Sister-Sister Relationship, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, Theseus is protective of Newt, Tina is protective of Queenie, Wedding Planning, Wedding Talk, letter writing, mostly just family bonding, sister bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomNonsense/pseuds/FandomNonsense
Summary: Newt Scamander felt utterly naked without his magical case. When it wasn’t with him he felt lighter, like the case was the only thing keeping his feet tethered to the earth and without it,  at any moment, he would drift off into space. The worn out and cumbersome piece of luggage had become such a staple of his day to day life it was as if he’d left his flat without part of his arm, and he hated it.





	1. The Magizoologist's Brother

**Author's Note:**

> I have wanted to write some sibling bonding for a while, I'm not used to writing siblings that don't bicker constantly so this was someone what of a struggle for me. That said, I'm quite pleased with how it turned out and this is going to be a two part story, Newt with Theseus, then Tina and Queenie. This also follows "Homward Bound" and "Holiday" in my Newtina "Laughter Lines Series" but can be read by itself. (I'm planning on naming all of these stories after song titles, even if the song itself doesn't go with the story, because I suck at naming things).

**Early March, 1928**

Newt Scamander felt utterly _naked_ without his magical case. When it wasn’t with him he felt lighter, like the case was the only thing keeping his feet tethered to the earth and without it, at any moment, he would drift off into space. The worn out and cumbersome piece of luggage had become such a staple of his day to day life it was as if he’d left his flat without part of his arm, and he hated it.

The scruffy-haired wizard walked briskly through the wind and rain; the collar of his favorite blue coat turned against the less than pleasant elements as he strode along the busy London sidewalk. He carried himself oddly, with his left hand balled tightly at his side; shoulder slouched, as if he were hauling his case - a phantom presence. He’d purposely left the magical item tucked safely away in his flat a few blocks behind him. Newt had struggled with the idea of abandoning it while he was out, but he knew there was no scientific reason – for once – to have taken it with him. If things got out of hand during his current engagement, it would probably be best that he didn’t have it with him.

Oddly enough, Newt wasn’t on his way to the Ministry, or to the aid of some magical beast; he was out in the rain and cold for something far more taxing. He was out on a social call.

He’d been in London less than 48 hours after spending all of January and February in Hungary working with wizards at a dragon sanctuary started after the war. They had summoned Newt there urgently on Christmas, needing his help to care for an orphaned nest of Hungarian Horntail eggs after poachers killed their mother. It had been a relatively easy task – a quick trip – however the first clutch of eggs they’d asked him to care for months prior started to hatch three days before his return. The unforeseen and eager hatchlings had kept the Magizoologist from commandeering the Ministry’s Floo Network in order to could ring in the New Year with his American friends, as he’d planned to do. He’d been in Eastern Europe ever since of his own accord, to observe the wizards working with the newborn dragons.

Newt had been captivated by how successfully the wizards and the hatchlings took to each other; he considered writing a companion piece with his next book entirely about dragons and their riders. Admittedly, he originally doubted their ability to get the baby dragons to imprint with their future riders, but he’d never been more pleased to be wrong. The Horntail hatchlings shared an almost protective kinship with the wizards that would one day ride them, and Newt found the whole thing absolutely fascinating.

Eventually Newt’s unique canter led him to Charing Cross Road, a rather populated Muggle district. The rain hadn’t slacked off yet, in fact he was sure the rain had started to fall more feverously the second he turned the corner. Rain was never an issue for the wizard – that was as long as he wasn’t out in it, or if it directly prevented the studying of magical creatures. All the Muggles trudging past him seemed to have gotten the same memo about the weather. Most of the people on the streets walked huddled under large umbrellas, going about their usual business, unaffected by the downpour. He envied their dry hair, as his own hung annoyingly, dripping in his face. Had it not been for the waterproofing charm on his blue coat, he knew he would’ve been even more miserable.

With his open hand he wiped the darkened, auburn locks clinging to his freckled skin away from his eyes and readjusted his collar. Newt’s destination was only a few more paces ahead; he could just make out the weathered storefront with the rusty cauldron hanging outside through the foggy rain.

The Leaky Cauldron was no glimmering jewel. It was dark and shady, perfumed with stale smoke from the various – somewhat questionable – herbs wizards puffed on in their pipes. The decor was reminiscent of the 1600s and did little to make the place seem cheery. The pubs aesthetic however, as Newt had learned long ago, was not telling of the witches and wizards who ran the seemingly decrepit pub and inn. They were kind and gracious hosts to all who entered their establishment, serving some of the best food and drinks the wizarding world of London had to offer.

Newt quickly removed his wand from one of his many pockets as he stepped inside the dismal interior. He silently cast a charm to dry his sopping clothes and hair; causing a warm burst of air to burst from the tip of his wand with a quiet _whoosh,_ leaving him feeling much more comfortable.

No one paid him any attention as he lingered awkwardly by the door, scanning the faces in the dim lighting. There weren’t many patrons that evening, though Newt figured it was still too early in the day to produce a large crowd. The lack of customers made it easier to find who he was looking for. His keen eyes searched the faces of the few wizards sitting randomly about, hunting for the man he’d trudged through the unfriendly weather to meet. It wasn’t until his eyes brought him to the farthest corner of the establishment that he found the titian haired figure he was looking for. The man sat with his back facing the rest of the people in the pub, and he, too, wore his coat collar turned upward – though Newt knew it had nothing to do with the weather.

With a huff, the Magizoologist strode deeper into the tavern before finally placing himself in the chair opposite the seemingly mysterious man.

“I was beginning to think you were going to blow me off!” Theseus Scamander chided in a joking tone. Newt’s older brother grinned at him, flashing his perfect white teeth and charismatic twinkle in his grey eyes.

“Can’t say I didn’t think about it.” Newt attempted to match his brothers jesting tone, but fell short. He situated himself on the uncomfortable wooden chair, brushing away the shaggy hair in his eyes.

Despite the poor delivery, Theseus’ broad shoulders still bounced with a chuckle at his brother’s retort. “It’s nice to see you again, little brother,” he smiled sincerely.

“Yes,” Newt replied. “Very good to see you again as well.”  He mirrored his brother’s grin as best he could, hoping Theseus knew he really was glad to see him after so many years apart.  

Newt wasn’t usually one to make small talk, but meeting his older brother for drinks after extended holidays was something the two of them had done for years. They would meet almost always at the Leaky Cauldron to get drinks and catch up. Theseus was one of the few people Newt was at ease enough with to hold a conversation, no matter how mundane he found it. They would discuss work mostly. His brother would tell him all about his recent Auror stories, while Newt would listen respectfully - even if he had little interest. In return he’d speak at length about creatures, using scientific terms Newt wasn’t even sure Theseus understood, but he listened attentively nonetheless, and would even ask how his creatures were doing.

“You’re looking well.” Theseus reached out and gave Newt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Three years in the field bulked you up a wee bit, huh?”

In truth he had built up some of muscle; taking care of beasts was a rather physical undertaking. All the lifting and climbing and running had put some meat on his bones, and yet Newt still felt as though he paled in comparison next to Theseus. His older brother had always been the sturdier build of the two, tall with wide shoulders and a handsome face. The dark stubble on his cheeks hid faint freckles and contoured his chiseled jaw. Yes, his brother was easily the better Scamander.

“Err, seems that way.” Newt paused, agreeing with him. “I had to expand a lot of my clothes to fit properly.”

Theseus laughed. “It suits you.”

Newt wasn’t sure it suited him in the way he knew his brother was meaning, but he wasn’t going to complain. His job was laborious, so having the strength certainly helped.

Just as he was about to say something regarding the matter of his freshly acquired strength, the Magizoologist’s attention was stolen as a group of witches loudly shuffled in and out of the rain. They were much younger than most of the other people in the bar; fresh out of Hogwarts if Newt had to guess. Theseus’ eyes followed his brothers and he smirked slightly.

“They’re ogling you,” he chuckled in a low whisper as he adjusted his popped collar.

Newt’s green eyes darted back to this brother as a hard line creased his brow. “Why would they be ogling _me_?”

The Magizoologist was no stranger to witnessing such stares when he was with Theseus – the war hero. His older brother’s popularity always forced them to the darkest, most unsought after part of any wizarding establishment - just so they would be left alone. But Theseus was right. It wasn’t himself the young witches were absorbed in, it was Newt. They watched him with wide, almost _hungry_ eyes that made him somewhat tense.

“Fans,” Theseus expressed, taking a swig of whiskey while eyeing his brother knowingly.

“ _Fans_ …?” Newt repeated the word in a low whisper, his ginger brows still tightly pulled together.

Theseus looked somewhat amused.

“It might have something to do with a certain book you wrote,” he hinted.

Newt’s face soured and his stomach churned. “Surely not.”

He was just an author – a scientist – who wrote a single book about magical creatures. There was no way such a thing would draw the same kind of attention one got from being a war hero. Although, from the look of things and the smile on his brother’s face, Newt could tell he was wrong.

The Magizoologist swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and swept his eyes over to where the group of witches were - not even subtly giggling.

“You’ve been gone, Newt,” Theseus shrugged, honestly. “Practically since the damn book got published.” He narrowed his eyes at Newt. “You have _no idea_ do you?”

“About what?”

“About how popular your book is. There’s this huge photo of you in Flourish and Blotts—they can barely keep your book on the shelves.” He laughed. “You’re quite the celebrity.”

Newt’s jaw clenched as he attempted to process everything his brother was telling him. He did know his book was popular, but he hadn’t thought it would be _that_ popular.

“Why else did you think you were commissioned so quickly for another book?” Theseus looked to be the only one of them to find amusement by his little brother’s rise to fame.

Newt gnawed on his bottom lip and moved his focus to the wood grain of the table. Never would he have thought to find himself walking in Theseus’ shoes. His brother was so much more suited for fame; he was charismatic and likeable. Newt, on the other hand, thrived on solitude and tried very hard to avoid unnecessary conversation. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to deal with strangers approaching him the way Theseus could.

The Magizoologist peered back at the table of witches from under the fluff of his hair. They were still gawking and whispering, and his gut twisted at the thought of them making a move to say something to him. _What would I even say?_  He thought, looking back at the table between him and his brother.

“You know,” Theseus started, suddenly, finishing his drink. “I know this great Muggle pub down the street I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Newt immediately met his brother’s eyes with a thankful expression. His brother always had been protective of him, and this time he was truly grateful he was. The Muggles were blissfully ignorant of both their famous status in the wizarding world and would leave them alone.

 

***

 

“My friends and I started coming here so we could enjoy ourselves without someone buggering me.”

The pub his brother lead him to was only a block and a half away from the Leaky Cauldron, and was overflowing with loud, intoxicated Muggles. Newt felt much more relaxed not having people watching him, even if the tavern was filled to capacity. He glanced around the more lively, but plain interior and smiled.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Newt huffed heavily with relief, and a crooked smirk.

The brothers found a spot at the bar, away from most of the other patrons and sat down on the cushioned stools. Theseus nodded in agreement with his brother before turning to the barkeep and ordering two whiskeys. The balding Muggle brandished a thumb, and expertly poured the two amber colored beverages.

“To your book.” Theseus raised his glass in a toast.

Newt seized his own and lifted the crystal drinkware to meet the other. “To my book,” he nodded.

Together they threw back the drinks; the alcohol burned the back of Newt’s throat as he swallowed. He laughed slightly from the sound he made as he drank; it had been a while since he’d last had something stronger than a Butterbeer. Theseus grinned impishly at his younger brother and quickly called for another round.

“For a while there was a rumor going around the Ministry that you got sacked.” Theseus took another drink as he spoke.

“That would explain the looks I was given this morning,” Newt shrugged with a sideways grin.  

He wasn’t surprised. He’d been away so much – so often – the past three years, it must have seemed the only reasonable explanation for his extended absences. The smile on his face lessened somewhat thinking back to some of his colleagues’ expressions.

“They also seemed a bit…” Newt wasn’t sure what word he was looking for. He’d never truly felt in his element at the Ministry, but there were a few people in the Beast Division who’d always made him feel somewhat welcome. That was until he’d went in that morning to his office.

“…standoffish.”

Theseus shrugged “They’re jealous most likely. They sit at their desks all day, dealing with paperwork on beasts while you got picked to go on these adventures, and now you’re famous!”

Newt scowled. “Yes, well perhaps I should tell them the fame was not something I signed up for.” He irritably took a large gulp of his drink, cursing his newly discovered fame.

There was silent a moment – apart from the usual pub clamor – making Newt feel inclined to make an effort at continuing the conversation. “Are there any other rumors floating around I should know about?” While he didn’t much care for the usual gossip, he was trying valiantly to make the most of the outing with his brother. Theseus was busy – probably busier than Newt – being head Auror, and he didn’t want to waste his older brother’s time by just sitting there wordlessly.

A smirk spread across Theseus’ face. “Well, I do recall reading something about a problem with magical beasts in New York City. A problem that led to the capture of one Gellert Grindelwald.”

Newt cleared his throat and pursed his lips as his brother continued. “The papers never listed a name, only that it had been a British wizard in a blue coat.” Theseus eyed the overcoat dangling from the back of his brother’s barstool, pointedly.

“One or two of my creatures may have, um, escaped from my case,” he admitted, nervously tapping his fingers on the bar. “And that may have led to the discovery and arrest of him, yes.”

Newt was tired of talking about himself; he’d always found it strenuous to do, while Theseus could manage it so effortlessly. Usually their meetup was his brother talking about his work, which he’d always been perfectly fine with. On most occasions, however, Newt hadn’t been gone for three years - which he figured was the reasoning behind his older brother’s somewhat uncharacteristic behavior.

He shifted in his chair, eyes locked with his half-empty glass of whiskey.

“Anything new with you, Theseus?” Newt asked, desperately trying to derail the conversation away from himself.

A peculiar smile lit up amongst the dark, red scruff on his face. “Mother didn’t tell you?”

Newt cocked a brow, his interest suddenly spiked. “I just got back yesterday, I haven’t spoken to her since December— what would she have told me?”

Theseus jokingly rolled his eyes and finished another drink before he spoke. “I’m getting married!”

It took Newt a moment to register what his brother had told him, before a smiled parted his lips. That wasn’t something he’d been expecting to learn; Theseus always seemed to like being a bachelor. He’d had more girlfriends than Newt cared to count, thus he was struggling to remember the name of the last witch he’d been seeing.

“Abigail?”  

His brother grimaced and he shook his head. “Merlin’s beard, no. I broke things off with her ages ago.”

Newt frowned, a little embarrassed he couldn’t recall the break up. “Oh…”

If he did remember right, the Magizoologist wasn’t surprised that things had turned out poorly with her. From what he could recall of the witch she was more interested in his brother’s fame than Theseus himself. Even their mother – who could get along with practically anyone – wasn’t too taken with Abigail Portmore.

“Her name is Lillian Bell,” Theseus explained a moment later.

He tapped the counter, eyeing the bald man behind the counter, and he refilled the empty glass without a word. Suddenly Theseus looked somewhat nervous – which wasn’t one of his usual expressions. It appeared there was more he wanted to say, but the words weren’t coming out.

“What?” Newt encouraged. He didn’t like seeing Theseus in the state he was in.

He threw down half of his drink, as if doing so would build up his courage, and finally looked at his younger sibling. “She’s not a witch. She’s a Squib.”

It struck Newt why his brother was suddenly so nervous; he was worried what he would think. Most pureblood wizards held an unnecessarily harsh prejudice against Muggles born to magical families. Newt, however, didn’t care. What did it matter if she was a witch or a Muggle? She could’ve been a Runespore for all he cared – anyone would be better than Abigail.

“And I’m sure she’s lovely,” Newt said reassuringly with a genuine smile.

Theseus perked up. “She is.”

“Do Mother and Father know? That she’s a Squib, I mean?” Newt doubted very much their mother would care; she herself came from a family with plenty of non-magical persons. Their father likely would be the one to have any kind of apprehension.

Theseus finished his drink and shrugged. “They know. Dad initially wasn’t too taken with the idea— that was until he met her. Mum, as you can imagine, was over the moon.” His grey eyes glanced around the noisy pub and he smiled fondly. “I met her here, and I’ve got to tell you, Newt, it’s so wonderful to talk to a woman who has no idea who I am.”

Newt suddenly felt very warm and content seeing how happy his brother was. It made him smile wide and he wondered for a moment if perhaps what he was feeling was akin to what Tina felt when her sister was happy with Jacob.

“I’m glad for you,” he congratulated him. Newt ordered a round, seizing his glass and holding it up in his brother’s direction. “I look forward to meeting my future sister-in-law.”

Theseus clanked his glass against Newt’s. “Cheers!”

They finished the drinks and his older brother grinned. “It’s good you want to meet her, because I’ve asked her to meet us here.” His drunken fingers fumbled the chain to his pocket watch as he pulled it from his waistcoat to check the time. “She should be here any moment.”

Newt was suddenly the nervous one. He was happy for his brother – overjoyed in fact – but he hadn’t intended on being introduced to a complete stranger. He figured Theseus’ fiancé was kind and lovely as he’d said, but he feared she may be disappointed to learn that the younger Scamander was far less enigmatic than the man she would soon marry. Newt was compelled to order another drink for just himself, and drank it down quickly hoping the alcohol would calm his nerves. His brother was too many whiskeys deep to notice Newt’s changed body language, he instead sat on the edge of his stool eagerly watching the doorway.

“Lillian! Darling!” Theseus all but jumped up a moment later when he spotted her, gesturing with wild arms for a tall slender woman with honey hair and lips red as rose petals.

Newt took a deep breath to gather himself as best he could, and stood as well. He staggered only slightly – the alcohol’s doing – straightening his waistcoat with one hand and smoothing his unruly hair with the other.

She reminded him a little of Queenie when he got a closer look at her. Her skin was far paler, but her aquamarine eyes glistened as she smiled, and her silky hair fell in elegant waves to her shoulders. Even the dark ruby dress she wore reminded him of his friend across the sea.

Theseus hastily pulled her small figure into his arms and he kissed her with vigor before introducing her. “Lillian, I’d like you to meet my little brother, Newton.”

“Newt, please,” he corrected quickly tipping his head politely. “Call me Newt.”

She grinned widely with enthusiasm. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Newt.”

“Likewise,” he forced a small smile.

Theseus fetched another stool for Lillian, placed it between himself and Newt, and called for another round of drinks.

“Theseus has told me so much about you,” she said, looking to Newt. “You travel the world studying magical creatures…” Her expression turned to one of playful envy. “…that must be so exciting!”

Her interest in his travels and work coaxed him from his shell somewhat. “It is,” he said. “In fact I just returned from Hungary. I was called there to help with dragon hatchlings.”

Her eyes lit up in childlike wonder. “Oh my! How extraordinary!”

Newt couldn’t help but to grin; she was so much different than the girls his brother was usually with. “Yes, quite extraordinary,” he agreed.

“In any case, it sounds far more riveting than some fancy magical policeman.” Lillian’s tone was teasing as she playfully elbowed Theseus’ side.

He feigned offence. “I’ll have you know, my job is very prestigious in Newt and I’s world.” He friskily tickled her side and she let out a series of high pitched giggles. Newt’s cheeks flushed pink watching the two of them, and he moved his eyes back to his half empty glass.

“Theseus Scamander!” Lillian said sternly, still fighting her giggles. “Please control your hands!”

His older brother held up open palms. “As you wish, my darling.” Theseus placed a lingering kiss to her rosy cheek and the two of them smiled at each other for a long time.

In the short time Newt had known her he could already tell that Lillian was a perfect match for his brother. She saw him just as Theseus – not the war hero or the Auror – a man with odd magical abilities. She was the contrast he needed to keep him grounded when he let his ego take the reigns as he sometimes did. Newt was proud to be able to call her family.

“I’m sure mother can’t wait for the two of you to be married.” Newt thought aloud, even though he hadn’t meant to. He scowled at his glass that was suddenly empty – he didn’t remember finishing it. The bartender refilled the drink, presumably due to the intense frown Newt had given the empty glass. Despite starting to feel somewhat wishy-washy, the Magizoologist shrugged and brought the now full glass to his lips.

“Yeah,” he heard Theseus say. “She’s under the impression that _both_ of her sons will be married soon.”

Newt practically choked on his drink. The strong liquid burned his throat and nose as he coughed; his eyes even began to water. “What on earth would make her think that?”

While he was somewhat appalled at his brother’s bluntness, a certain dark-haired, American Auror popped into his mind. He quickly pushed the thought of her away however, still feeling the need to scowl at his brother.

Theseus laughed and shrugged. There was an impish twinkle in his eyes that Newt had trouble distinguishing if it was on account of the amount of drinks he’d had or something completely different.

“It might have something to do with spending Christmas in America. I was surprised when I showed up for Christmas dinner and you weren’t there.”

“I went to visit friends,” Newt spoke defensively, still trying to wrap his mind around his mother’s assumptions.

“Yes, that’s what she said, but she also said you went to give a copy of your book to a girl you met there.”

Lillian smiled at Newt then, as if she’d suddenly become privy to more information; which only confused Newt further.

“I also happen to know that the copy of your book sitting in Mum and Dad’s library isn’t the first one off the press, like you promised them.” Theseus looked smug as he took another drink.

Newt’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at him, growing irritated. “I’d appreciate it if that would remain between us, Theseus.”

His older brother’s alcohol intake was beginning to affect his usual charming persona and twist it into the swollen-headed git Newt was less fond of. He offered a drunken smile as he reached out and patted Newt’s shoulder. “No worries, little brother. I’m a master of secrets.”

Theseus was about to order another drink, having finished what remained in his glass, until Lillian stopped him. The Magizoologist couldn’t see her face, but whatever expression it held was strong enough to keep his brother from ordering more liquor. Newt was glad for that, when it was just the two of them he could never get his brother to listen when he’d had too many drinks. Lillian’s keen ability to keep Theseus from getting completely plastered was just another reason Newt could tell she was good for his brother.

“So,” Lillian started, after settling Theseus, smiling at Newt. “Who is she?”

“She’s um, an Auror for MACUSA…essentially the American Ministry of Magic…” Newt explained, feeling his cheeks grow somewhat warm just thinking of Miss Goldstein.

“An Auror!? You fancy an Auror!?” Newt’s brother yelled. Luckily the pub was already quite noisy, and as such no one paid his out burst any attention.

“Theseus, darling,” Lillian put a finger to her fiancé’s lips. “There is absolutely no need for shouting.”

He frowned but said nothing while his fiancé turned back to Newt with the same kind smile she’d flashed him a few moments ago. “What’s her name?”

“Tina,” Newt said, feeling a grin form across his face as he spoke her name. “Her name is Tina.”

 

***

 

It was dark by the time the three of them ventured out of the pub and onto the damp London streets. They were all feeling a little tipsy on account of their drinks – none so much as Theseus, who was properly tanked. He was still yammering on about the mysterious girl his little brother fancied in America, while Lillian gallantly tried to get him to keep his voice down. Newt paid his brother little attention though, knowing even in his own somewhat intoxicated state that Theseus would have trouble recalling anything he’d said in a few hours.

As it turned out, Lillian’s flat was only a few blocks from the one Newt kept, which made Theseus feel the need to escort them both home. Thankfully when they reached the Magizoologist’s street, his older brother had given up on shouting about Tina, and instead focused his drunken energy on humming loudly. It was off key and only slightly bothersome – definitely better than the previous shouting.

The flat that Newt had in London wasn’t in a fancy neighborhood, nor was the dwelling itself fancy, but it was sturdy and close to the Ministry. He’d never needed anything more than the basic necessities; as long as there was a roof over his head to keep out England’s notorious rain, he was content.

When the trio drew nearer Newt’s door, the Magizoologist could make out the plump silhouette of a bird perched on the wrought-iron rail of his stoop. The sight made his heart jump in his chest at first glance, thinking maybe one of his creatures had managed to escape, however he quickly deduced that the creature was an owl.

The bird fluttered down the metal rail and impatiently dropped an envelope into Newt’s hand as he reached for it. Just before the animal flew away he tossed the bird a dead mouse – found somewhere in his blue coat of many pockets – and thanked the owl.

He hadn’t been expecting any mail, and his mind wondered if maybe it was from _her_. He felt his heart swell and his cheeks grow warm reading the name stamped across the parchment.

“Are you being summoned back to Hungary to deal with more dragons, little brother?” Theseus’ words spilled from his mouth in a confusing slur that made him sound far less intelligent than he was. Lillian even rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

“No,” Newt answered still looking at the envelope, feeling sober suddenly. “It’s from, Tina.”

Theseus let out a cry, resembling a mix between a belch and a chuckle. “She must fancy you back!”

Lillian quickly turned to hush him with a soft giggle and stern eye.

Newt glowered at his brother. “I can assure you, Theseus, she’s just a friend.”

For some reason his words made him feel disheartened. Tina was a dear friend to him, but if he was being honest with himself, on more than one occasion he’d found his mind thinking about her in ways that were far more indecent.

He stood at the base of the steps leading to his flat, eyes still locked with the envelope, chewing his bottom lip.

“I best take him home with me,” Lillian said after a moment, tucking her arm around Theseus’ waist. “It was so good to finally meet you, Newt.”

He glanced up from his letter at the sound of his name. “Yes, you as well. And, err, welcome to the family.” Newt forced a quick smile.

She nodded. “Goodnight, Newt.”

“Yes, goodnight, Newt.” Theseus bellowed. “I cannot wait to meet this American who’s stolen my baby brother’s heart.”

“Good night you two.” He sighed in response, giving up trying to argue with his brother, being in the state he was in.

When the couple walked off into the night, Newt wasted no time getting inside his dark flat to read what Tina had sent him. He heedlessly tossed his coat onto his sofa in the parlor as he made his way to his study near the back of the flat. Seeing her quick but neat writing brought a smile to his face as he read the letter.

Newt wasn’t sure just how many times he’d read the letter, he was sure however that by the time he’d fetched a quill and paper to reply, he had every word memorized. Her words came off the page like she was there speaking to him, and a familiar yearning sensation pulled at him. It was with an eager smile that he began writing:


	2. The Auror's Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina’s younger sister wasn’t home most days and nights since her engagement, in fact - leaving the apartment too quiet for her liking. There lacked a certain life to the modest living space without Queenie’s music or singsong voice filling the now stagnant air. Their home had suddenly turned into just a room with furniture where Tina sat, all alone, drinking coffee.

  


Tina had read Newts letter three times by the time she finally placed the piece of parchment on the kitchen table next to her mug of coffee. The Magizoologist’s words – even in written form – warmed her with their steady, kind hearted tone. She welcomed the sense of tranquility his letter wrapped her in, soaking it all in. The dark-haired witch didn’t have to worry about her Legilimens sister accidently snooping about in her mind as she committed the letter to memory that morning; Queenie wasn’t there.

Tina’s younger sister wasn’t home most days and nights since her engagement, in fact - leaving the apartment too quiet for her liking. There lacked a certain life to the modest living space without Queenie’s music or singsong voice filling the now stagnant air. Their home had suddenly turned into just a room with furniture where Tina sat, all alone, drinking coffee.

She sighed, shoulders sagging as she absently skimmed over Newt’s writing once more. _He would make this place feel warm again,_ her thoughts mused, making her heart rate quicken.

Tina smirked at the idea of the two of them seated at the table in comfortable silence – her with coffee and him with tea. She imagined his unruly hair falling over his eyes as he scribbled notes – yawning, as he wrote, from his inclination of forgoing sleep to accommodate his creatures.  For a moment her apartment felt like home again, bursting with life - just from the notion of Newt being there with her, not saying a word.

Queenie hadn’t moved out yet, Tina reminded herself, taking a sip of her hot drink a second later. Traces of her sister still lingered around the flat like forgotten memories. A dress here, a pair of shoes there – even the rose-colored mug on the shelf over the stove served as a piece of Queenie. None of which were able to make the space feel any less vacant; if anything their reminders made her absence even more apparent. Tina couldn’t and wouldn’t stop her sister from leaving when the time arrived. Queenie was a grown woman – an engaged woman – who loved spending time with her fiancé as much as any girl would. The success of Jacobs’s bakery left him with a steady income and a cozy apartment over his shop. That was where her sister would soon call home, taking with her the forgotten pair of shoes and the rose tinted mug, leaving Tina with only their ghosts.

Her world may not have seemed so glum if she was at work. Tina’s job had always been a good distraction for her. However, she’d been asked to take a mandatory leave for a few days, which she blamed in part for her sour mood. Since getting her job back as an Auror she’d been constantly at it, firing on all cylinders for over a year. The department felt that she would benefit with some time off after she’d snapped at one of her superiors –threatening to hex him. Paid leave or not, she was reluctant to see it through, knowing how much she was currently in need of a distraction. Without occupying her mind with work, all Tina could do was think about her sister and the _No-Mag_ she was going to marry.

_I hope you won’t fret too much over their engagement…she knows what she’s getting into._

Newt’s words drifted into her mind a she finished her coffee. She figured he was right, but that didn’t make her feel any better. His brother was going to marry a No-Mag, and from his letter she could deduce his family had no quarrel with the notion. It angered her slightly that Newt’s brother was free to marry without reprimanding from the magical world; it was unfair to Queenie.

She placed her fingers at her temples and rubbed with calming pressure, thrusting her anger to the back of her mind. There was nothing she could do about the laws, no matter how much she was against them - so why fret over it. Tina cast a sideways glance at the clock on the wall and cursed under her breath. The dark-haired witch quickly threw on a light jacket, abandoning her empty coffee mug and rushing down the stairs.

The weather was unusually warm for mid-March, making Tina immediately regret the extra layer she’d tossed on in her haste. She didn’t bother removing it though, not wanting the hassle of lugging it with her; her destination wasn’t too far, after all.

The Silver Kitchen was a No-Mag café only a 20-minute walk from the Goldstein’s apartment. The charming little eatery was one of the sisters’ favorite places to go on warm spring days or clear summer evenings. They would sit at one of the front patio tables, shaded by big cloth umbrellas, drinking coffee or eating gourmet sandwiches and watching the people passing by and talking.

Tina found Queenie sitting at one of the shaded tables. She looked radiant as always, her golden hair –curled and perfect – produced a sheen that put the sun’s rays to shame. A smile parted her pink lips the moment she caught sight of her dark-haired sister, and she hopped out of her chair to embrace her tightly.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!”

Hearing Queenie’s voice made Tina feel instantly better.

“I was worried you got caught up at work or somethin’.” Queenie gestured for Tina to sit before taking her place where she’d previously been seated.

Tina scowled at the mention of her job, and her sister frowned as well. “They made you take a leave?”

“Yeah,” the older witch scoffed, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I kinda jumped all over one of my bosses and the department felt it was because I’ve been working so much.”

From the look on her sister’s face Tina could tell she was fishing through her thoughts, so she quickly changed the subject before Queenie could read into what was really causing her stress.

“Is Jacob at the bakery?”

Queenie’s eyes lit up at the mention of his name and her smile widened. Tina’s diversion seemed to have worked.

“’Course he is,” she said with a smirk and a small shrug. “Saturdays are always busy. He may stop by though.”

Tina couldn’t help but to smile at her sister. Queenie was so delightfully happy it almost made the older witch forget she and Jacob were outlaws in love. There was a perpetual glow about her that was somewhat intoxicating. Tina tried her best to let the waves radiating from her sister envelop her in their happiness; but her stubbornness was making it difficult.

A young woman suddenly came up to the table with a pencil and small notepad to take their order. Queenie asked for an iced tea and a sandwich, while Tina ordered only coffee. Their server disappeared for a moment before returning with their drinks.

“You feelin’ okay, honey?” Queenie’s brows stitched together – heavy with concern. She had that look on her face again, and Tina wasn’t quick enough to block her sister out.

A gentle but doleful smile formed on the younger witch’s face. “Teenie, you don’t have to worry ‘bout me.”

“I’m always going to worry about you,” she told her, taking a motherly tone. “I always have and always will.”

Queenie’s smile lightened and she reached across the table, taking her sister’s hand in her own. She was wearing her ring, Tina noted, glancing at their intertwined fingers. It was a modest piece: a gold band and diamond with two smaller pink gems on either side. Jacob couldn’t have picked anything more suited for her; it was delicate and sparkled with just as much life as Queenie.

“It is pretty isn’t it?” she mused, dreamily.

“Yes, very pretty.” Tina forced a smile as she agreed.

Queenie rested her chin on her hand as she spoke. “Jakey keeps thinkin’ about how he wished he could’ve gotten one of the real fancy ones that they sell on 5th Ave. I told him I didn’t need anything more than him, though.” She sighed, and the smile on her features drained. “I hate that I can only wear it to places like this.”

The night of their engagement it had been decided that Queenie would only wear her ring at home or in distinctly No-Mag establishments. Any other time she kept it around her neck on a magical chain that would never break (for fear of losing it). Tina knew it broke her sister’s heart every time she had to remove it to go to work, but she had little choice. They couldn’t risk someone taking notice and asking questions Queenie couldn’t answer. Perhaps what hurt her sister the most about the entire ordeal was that, after the ceremony, she wouldn’t be able to take Jacob’s name. Queenie would always be a Goldstein in the wizarding world, and Tina’s heart ached for her sister.

“That ain’t so bad,” Queenie assured her, pulling more thoughts from Tina’s head. “I’m used to writing Goldstein on all my paperwork, anyway.”

It amazed Tina how strong her sister was. Queenie was handling everything about the upcoming wedding so much better than she was. Living a secret life, not changing her name or wearing her ring; she was taking everything in stride. She still was able to be the happy ‘bride-to-be’ that she deserved to be. The more Tina thought about everything that her sister was going through, the more she realized how Newt had been right in his letter to mention how absurd Rappaport's Law truly was.

“Oh!” Queenie perked up and her eyes twinkled. “Newt sent you a letter? What did he have to say?”

Their waitress returned before Tina could divulge what his message had to say, setting Queenie’s meal in front of her without saying a word.

“Well,” the dark-haired witch started after the woman returned to the inside of the building. “He wrote to tell you and Jacob congratulations, and that he will be in attendance as soon as a date is set.”

The grin on Queenie’s face grew wider. “What else?”

Tina could tell her sister was trying hard not to drink the entirety of the letter from her mind, therefore making her have to talk about it. She shrugged in an attempt to seem indifferent about Newt’s letter, but had difficulty hiding the smirk stretching over her features.  “He mentioned that his brother is getting married too, and that he’s apparently a celebrity over there because of his book.”

Queenie giggled. “I’m sure he’s enjoying that.”

Tina shook her head with a smirk. “He hates it.”

Their animated conversation lulled long enough for Queenie to steal a bite of her sandwich and wash it down with a gulp of her iced tea. “Did he say when he was planning to visit again?”

Tina’s head swayed back and forth as she absentmindedly smoothed a wrinkle in the tablecloth. “No, just that he looks forward to when he can.”

Tina’s response seemed to satisfy her sister. Queenie flashed a quick, playful smirk, uttering only a singsong “oh” as a reply.

Her puckish demeanor caused the older sister’s eyes to narrow and a brow to arch quizzically. “What are you getting at, Queenie?” Tina sat with her arms folded across her chest, suspiciously eyeing her sister.

She shrugged innocently as she ate her meal. “Nothin’. I just know the two of you are good friends, is all— it’s sweet that he wants to see you again.”

There was a tone in her sister’s voice Tina couldn’t quite place, and for a moment she envied her ability to read minds. She didn’t press the issue any further, fearing where that might lead to. Instead they sat in easy silence while Queenie finished her meal.

It was some time later when Jacob showed up. The sisters welcomed him with hugs and smiles, and the three of them spent the peaceful spring afternoon catching up. Queenie was quick to insist that Tina inform their No-Mag friend about Newt’s letter and that their English friend was growing quite popular.

“Newt’s famous now?” Jacob chuckled, sounding as though he didn’t believe it.

Tina smirked as she nodded.

“Just my luck to be friends with a famous guy, and I can’t tell nobody about it.” He laughed again. “Did he say if he’d come to the wedding?”

“He said he wouldn’t miss it.” Tina told him, forcing a smile. Every mention of their wedding prodded at her, provoking the concern building inside her.

Jacob seized Queenie’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Good.”

Queenie rested her head on his shoulder and grinned. The picture of the two of them filled Tina’s heart with warmth, despite how stressed their union was making her. Her sister was so happy, and in that moment she vowed not to worry so much. Everything Newt had said in his letter was right: the two of them were well aware of what could happen if they were found out. While it was scary, Tina would be there to help them over that bridge if that time ever came – she prayed it wouldn’t – but the future wasn’t written. If they were careful and kept to themselves, surely they could make a great life together.

“I best be heading back to the bakery,” Jacob said, glancing at his watch. “Need to get a head start for tomorrow's morning rush.”

Queenie pulled him into a quick, sweet kiss before whispering something in his ear. Tina let her eyes wander to the mug in her hands, offering the couple privacy to say their goodbyes.

“Later, Doll,” Jacob told his fiancé. “See ya, Tina.”

He waved as he walked back down the street towards his beloved bakery.

 

***

 

It was much later that afternoon when Tina and her sister left The Silver Kitchen, walking arm in arm down the sidewalk. After spending the majority of the day with her sister talking and laughing – just being sisters – Tina felt her stamina restored. Their steps were light and whimsical as they strode together with the rest of the New York crowd. They even hummed their old school song as they ambled in the direction of their apartment.

“Oh, Teenie!” her sister released her hold and waltzed to a nearby storefront.

Behind the glass was a display of a few pristine wedding dresses. Queenie’s eyes sparkled just as brightly as the gowns in front of her as she marveled at them.

“Look at them,” she sounded almost breathless.

Tina, however, looked only at her sister as she beamed yearningly up into the windows at the dresses. _What a beautiful bride you’ll be_ , she thought.

“Oh…” Queenie’s blue eyes glanced away from the display and to Tina. The faintest glimmer of water swelled in her wide eyes, and she took her older sister's hand in hers as she smiled.

“You will be, too,” she promised, showcasing that twinkle in her eye once more. “One day.”

Tina only laughed. “Maybe…”

Her eyes wandered up to one of the less extravagant gowns on display in the window. She’d never given much consideration to settling down one day with a husband. That had always been Queenie’s ideal future. Tina was married to her work; she loved the thrill it gave her - but as she stood gazing at the idea of a _different_ future, she wondered if her job would be enough. The apartment had felt so hollow that morning when it was only her – so _lonely_. Suddenly, the thought of finding someone to share a life with didn’t seem so bad.

Queenie squeezed Tina’s hand affectionately, but said no more.

Tina’s morose thoughts plagued her the rest of their walk to the apartment, and even after. She did notice that with Queenie beside her their living room felt more like home, but she doubted the sensation would last once her sister left to return to Jacobs.

Tina hung her jacket on the rack by the door and sat on the sofa with a huff. She was exhausted, not physically of course, but mentally. The stress and worrying over her sister’s wedding along with everything that would change once they were man and wife was going to put her under.

“Aren’t you staying at Jacob’s tonight?” she asked Queenie, who had her wand out and was cooking a meal at the stove. She’d already tossed her jacket over the back of her usual chair and switched out her heels for her slippers.

Queenie shrugged. “You need me right now, Teenie.”

The older witch gave her sister a weak smile, thinking the words _Thank you_ instead of saying them. The apartment around her had come back to life with Queenie humming softly as she cooked. All the things that, earlier in the day, brought Tina so much grief – the shoes and the rose-colored mug – had ceased their taunting, making her feeble smile linger. She gave herself permission to relax as she lounged on the sofa watching her sister fondly. It was easy for her to imagine Queenie in Jacobs’s apartment, a few years from then, with a babe on her hip and another clutching the hem of her skirt as she prepared a meal for her happy family. It amazed Tina how much she wanted all of it for her sister.

“Mm…it is a pretty picture, ain’t it?” Queenie mused; eyes closed as if she too were seeing it. She gingerly waved her wand at the cabinet across the room and two bowls floated through the air and to the table just in time for the pot to ladle out generous helpings of the soup Queenie had made. Its hearty aroma hung thick in the air and made Tina’s empty stomach rumble.

“Ma’s chicken and noodle?” She asked her blond sister as she sat down. Their mother’s chicken and noodle soup was by far her favorite dish as a kid, which Queenie had learned to make soon after their parent’s passing. The meal was unofficially reserved for special occasions – sickness, bad days, or often when they were both feeling their parents’ loss, heavily.

A caring grin spread across the younger witch’s features. “Mmhm, I figured you could do with some comfort food.”

“Thank you, Queenie.”

“’Course.” She chirped affectionately, but her expression transformed into one of concern. “There’s an awful lot goin’ on upstairs with you. I ain’t tryin’ to pry, honest. I just want you to be happy, honey. To relax a little.”

Tina didn’t say anything, causing a silence to creep into the room as she stirred her steaming bowl. There wasn’t a lot she could say that her sister hadn’t already fished from her mind. Queenie told her once that Tina’s thoughts spilled into the air as quickly and as clearly as spoken words when she was worrying about something. No doubt her sister was well aware of everything that was making it so difficult to relax.

With a sigh, the dark-haired witch did her best to push everything out of her mind so she could enjoy the rest of the evening with her sister.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Queenie murmured, suddenly. Her blue eyes glanced around the apartment before falling on Tina. “…Just the two of us. Eating dinner an’ sippin’ coffee.”

Tina smiled at the sentiment, but shook her head slowly. “Nah, you’ll be so happy with Jacob you won’t even remember that boring stuff.”

The room was quiet again, and Queenie’s lips melded into a small frown. She cast her sister a saddened gaze as she spoke. “But you’re all I’ve known for years. It’s scary, Teenie. I love Jacob; marrying him is the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted for myself, but you…” She paused as a tear slid down her cheek and she took her sister’s hands in hers. “…You’re everything to me.”

A soft chuckle broke from Tina’s lips, eyes lined with heavy tears as she pulled her sister into her arms.

“You’re my everything too, Queenie,” she sniffed, refusing to let go of her sister for a moment. “That’s why I worry so much.”

Queenie let out a soft laugh as she pulled away. “I know,” she pushed tears out of her eyes and smiled. “And I’ll come visit afterward, so don’t worry about that either, okay?”

Tina bobbed her head. “Okay.”

 

***

 

Queenie’s rendering of their mother’s chicken soup was spot on (as always), and just the thing to kick Tina completely out of her solemn mood. The sisters spent much of the late evening talking about the wedding: where it should be held, who was to be invited, but mostly about the dress Queenie was to wear.

From the beginning her younger sister had her heart set on making her own dress. Queenie was such an excellent tailor that it almost seemed a waste not to make her own. But their stroll past the dress shop earlier that day seemed to make her think she lacked the skill to make something so beautiful.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Those gowns were just so breathtaking!”

The sisters sat side by side, shoulder to shoulder on the floor, legs out in front of them, backs against the sofa. Tina was taking Queenie’s advice and relaxing; with some help. They’d been nursing a bottle – two actually – of illegal wine, which they kept hidden in the false bottom of their chest of drawers. It was one of several such types of drinks they kept stashed away for special occasions.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you make beautiful dresses!” Tina shoved her sister playfully, causing Queenie to giggle and snort. “I’m sure you could make one ten times better than any one we saw!”

They both laughed, more so from the effects of the alcohol than the subject of the conversation. Their second bottle of wine was almost empty, Tina noted, as she brought the mouth of the dark bottle to her lips for a sip. Rarely did she allow herself to consume so much, but it was making her feel so much better.

“Hey,” she said nudging her younger sister with her elbow. “Look what else I found in that drawer.”

Queenie took a drink from the bottle as her sister handed it to her. A moment later Tina brandished an old hat box, and she watched her sister’s jaw go slack.

“All our old pictures!” Queenie beamed, her lips stained from the wine.

Tina removed the dusty lid, revealing a messy stack of magical black and white photos of their family as well as their days at Ilvermorny. She removed one of the moving images with a nostalgic smile. Tina stood next to Queenie in the photo, both wearing their school robes, hugging, smiling, and laughing. The older sister could easily recall the day the photo had been taken; just before her graduation.

“Oh, look at this one,” Queenie said softly.

Tina gently took the picture her sister handed her. The image was much older, wrinkled around the edges, but the figures were still plain as day. Depicted in the photo was a summer afternoon in Central Park of them with their parents. In the scene their father held young Queenie, tickling her, while little Tina clung to her mother’s leg watching her sister with a wide grin. As hard as she tried, Tina couldn’t recall that leisurely afternoon in the park. She and Queenie had been so young – scarcely older than three and five if she had to guess.

“Pa would’ve loved walking you down the aisle,” Tina mused, leering at the photo with sad eyes.

Queenie sighed, resting her head on her sister’s shoulder as she smoothly took the photo into her own hand for a closer look.

“Yeah,” she finally murmured. “It’s a shame, but that’s what I’ve got you for. You’re the next best thing!”

Tina felt tears well in her eyes, and she doubted she could blame the alcohol as she’d done for the spontaneous laughter. She was honored to be given the opportunity to accompany her sister down the aisle and give her away.

“You’re really the only person who I _need_ to be there.” Queenie continued, sounding as though she was about to drift off to sleep at any moment. Alcohol had always had that effect on her. “I really only want Newt there for _your_ sake.” She chuckled, burped, and then laughed a second time, much louder. “And I betcha he’s only comin’ cause youse gonna be there…”

“Jacob wants him there, he’s his best friend.” Tina argued, unsure how to take her sister’s drunken words.

She dismissively waved her hand in disagreement, “Jacob don’t know what I know.”

“And what do you know?” Tina queried as she slowly brought her sister and herself to her feet. The room spun slightly and it took her a moment to recover from the sudden bout of vertigo before she began for the bedroom with cautious steps.

Her younger sister snickered and she shook her head of thick golden curls, “Everything.”

All Tina did was roll her eyes.

Queenie was easy to coax into bed, falling asleep the second her head touched the pink pillow. Tina gently tucked in her little sister – who wasn’t so little anymore, she told herself – and smiled. It had been a privilege to raise her, and she would savor every second of the moments that remained before Queenie was a married woman.

A while later Tina stumbled back into the living room to gather the empty bottles and the old hat box of memories. She tossed the bottles in the bin, and placed the box on the table. With a flick of her wand, the lights went out. As she curled up under her blankets and slowly drifted to sleep, she thought about her mother, her father, her sister - and even about the Magizoologist across the sea.

 

***

 

Tina’s head was pounding when the savory smell of  cooking breakfast woke her the next morning. For a moment her headache puzzled her, until she remembered the wine she and Queenie had broken into. She dared not to open her eyes as she laid still in her bed, knowing the light pouring in from the windows would render her sensitive eyes blind. Even her muscles ached, and her mouth was dry and scratchy. There was a stale taste on her tongue that made her empty stomach churn, and she suddenly remembered why she usually kept her drinking to a minimum.

She groaned when she finally gained the will to set up, casting a narrow-eyed glance to her sister’s empty bed. Tina was surprised to find it already made. Rarely was the blonde witch awake before her. Her eyes opened slightly wider as they grew more used to the brightness in the room, and she spotted the glass of water on the nightstand. Tina quickly drank it down, feeling more refreshed.

Eventually she worked up to getting out of bed and into the kitchen where Queenie was once again at the stove. She was humming along to the tune on the radio as she flipped pancakes. Oranges squeezed themselves into a glass pitcher while eggs fried, alongside the pancakes, of their own accord. The front windows were cracked, letting a warm morning breeze carry the smells of breakfast though the apartment.

Tina took her usual place at the table, feeling the pressure in her head start to subside.

“Thanks for the water, Queenie,” she said.

In the past few hours Tina felt as though her sister had done more taking care of her than the other way around.

“You’re welcome,” she chimed, waving her wand for the dishes to situate themselves at the table. “Drink some juice, too,” she insisted, flicking her wand again. The glass pitcher floated to the table and poured the orange drink into Tina’s empty water glass.

“There’s another note there on the table addressed to you.” Queenie told Tina with a smile. “It arrived this morning.”

Tina’s brows knit together as she sipped her juice, eyeing the unopened envelope at the center of the table. Her abrupt curiosity chased away all the grogginess she’d been experiencing and she snatched the note with eager fingers. She knew that hurried penmanship – she’d spent almost all morning the previous day committing it to memory. The words made her heart beat faster as she read.

Tina could almost hear him stumbling over his words as she read his letter and it made her smile.

“Oh Teenie!” Queenie bounced with excitement. “You have to go!”

Tina neatly folded the note and put it back in the envelope as their breakfast floated to their plates on the table.

“I don’t know, Queenie,” Tina shrugged. “MACUSA just gave me time off. I doubt they’ll let me take off more to go to a wedding.” She took a bite of her pancake as she continued. “Plus, I don’t wanna leave you alone, or the apartment. I don’t even know his family!”

Queenie gave her sister a skeptical, disapproving look. “Those are just excuses. You’ve been working your tail off, honey. MACUSA owes you more than just a measly week off. I also have Jakey, so I won’t be alone, and I’m more than capable of watching the apartment while you’re gone.”

Everything she said was right, of course, and it made Tina press her lips together in a hard line. She was fighting a losing battle. “I still won’t know anyone there,” she tired.

Queenie wasn’t having it with the half-hearted excuses. “You’ll know Newt! Besides, I’m sure his family is wonderful.” She paused to take a bite of her meal. “Now, you’re going to need a new dress, of course— something nice but not too fancy…oh, and a gift! I wonder what that should be…and how are you planning on getting there? You could always take the No-Mag way, Newt seems to like it – or maybe just apply for a Floo Pass from MACUSA, that would be quicker-“

“QUEENIE!” Tina’s words came out louder and more harshly than she’d intended them to be, but her sister’s excitement was too much to swallow, so soon. “The wedding is not for another month, so _if_ I decide to go, I’ve got time to get things arranged.”

“You’re going, Tina.”

Queenie _never_ called her Tina. Not unless she needed to get her point across. Hearing her sister call her by name was enough to make Tina practically fall out of her chair. There was an odd, caring fierceness in her sister’s heavy gaze that the dark-haired witch had never seen the like of before.

The blonde’s expression softened some and she smiled, flashing her white teeth. “It would be rude not to accept.”

 

***

 

Tina was glad to be back at work, even if it was just sorting through the paperwork that had piled up in her forced absence. It was a good distraction for everything she needed to be stolen away from; like her sisters illegal wedding. She was still afraid for Queenie and Jacob, but was trying her hardest to suppress her anxiety - if only for her sister’s sake. One thing, however, was still distracting her away from her work.

Lying open on her desk, amongst all the other papers, was Newt’s invitation for her to attend his brother’s wedding. Queenie had been on her from the moment it had arrived two days prior, encouraging – more like threatening - her to go.

Tina glanced at the letter and sighed while the owl perched on her desk eyed her quizzically. The owl she and her sister usually used to issue mail was still missing, to which Tina had adopted Gus, one of MACUSA’s owls, until theirs returned.

“I guess going wouldn’t hurt, would it?” she asked the bird.

Gus ruffled his feathers and cooed back at her.

“I mean, I’ll know Newt, and his mother must be like him. I’m sure I can get along with her…”

The owl blinked at her as she spoke and stretched his wings. She couldn’t help but to smile. She was reminding herself of Newt – carrying on a one sided conversation with Gus, the owl. Tina rolled the idea of making the trip to England around in her head, finding it harder to think up reasons why she shouldn’t go. In her heart she knew she longed to see that disheveled mop of reddish-brown hair and crooked smile of his again. She  had dreamed about him increasingly more and more since his first letter had arrived.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.” She told the bird.

Tina removed a small piece of parchment and dipped her quill into the inkwell, finally ready to send her reply:

She wrote; three words she’d told him before when he asked things of her.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 as promised! Newt's handwriting was difficult to figure out, but I feel pretty good about the font I found. Also, Tina and Queenie are amazing and I loved writing their sister bonding! I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you guys thought!
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr at: fandom-non-sense  
> That's where I post progress and links to my fics if you guys are interested.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you all are well!  
> ~Chels

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter is being beta'd right now and will hopefully be posted next weekend sometime. I also really wanted to find fonts that I though fit Newt and Tina, so I apologize for that if it's confusing, I just thought it would maybe add some character to them and the piece itself. Let me know what you liked, loved or even hated. Kudos are awesome too!
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr at: fandom-non-sense  
> that's where I post progress and links to my fics if you guys are interested.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you all are well!  
> ~Chels


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